


But a Dream Within a Dream

by Kyntha



Series: The Doctor's Bedroom [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Mush, Inspired by Poetry, One Shot, Post-Episode: s06e04 The Doctor's Wife, Romance, Sex in a TARDIS, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, TARDIS rooms, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 11:50:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4705004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyntha/pseuds/Kyntha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Shall we dance, Sexy?” the Doctor whispered.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	But a Dream Within a Dream

_Is all that we see or seem_  
_But a dream within a dream._  
_~Edgar Allan Poe_

He walked into his bedroom, but it wasn’t his bedroom. The room was large, plush, and quite masculine, the way a Victorian gentleman’s smoking room might be. A king sized four poster bed loomed on the far corner, dressed in rich burgundy silk bed linens. The center of the room held a leather sofa and two leather side chairs near a roaring fireplace.

What drew his attention, though, was the woman with her back to the door. She was dressed as finely as the room in a stunning Victorian deep blue silk gown. The firelight and gaslight caught on it in ways that caused the fabric to shimmer lighter blues, greens, teals, and purples - the colors of the time vortex. Her normally wild dark curly hair was tamed into softer curls and ringlets. Some intuition in him knew this would be a pleasurable visit.

When he sonicked a victrola in the corner to life, the woman turned. She smiled broadly at him, and as he recognized her, he smiled just as broadly back. Struggling against the tendency to become an awkward puppy whose feet are too big, he stepped forward and held out his hand to her.

“Shall we dance, Sexy?” he whispered.

“Oh I think I should enjoy that very much.” she whispered back taking his hand. 

“You look stunning.” the Doctor complimented, folding the TARDIS in human form into his arms. Catching his reflection in the mirror above the fireplace, he realized his top hat and tails were one of the few things he wore that made him almost like himself, and was glad to see himself wearing them.

“And you look...pretty. No, that’s not right. ‘Pretty’ is for girls, yes?” She stumbled over the words. “I see you found an excuse to wear a bow tie even now.”

“Bow ties are cool,” he murmured over her head.

“Perhaps, but you just like to say ‘Bow ties are cool.’ because you like the way it feels in your mouth when you say it.” She retorted playfully.

“And because it so annoyed dear Amelia Pond.”

“Another thing you like to say to feel it in your mouth - Amelia Pond.”

“Cool. Yes, I do like the way it feels. Smooth and sleek.” He ignored the comment about Amy. The Doctor refused to let the guilt of Amy and Rory ruin this moment. “Bow ties are cool.”

Sexy giggled softly and nestled herself against his chest and shoulder. The Doctor fit the top of her head under his chin. They held each other tightly, but comfortably.

The Doctor's pants began to grow tighter with anticipation of what may come, but he ignored it to savor the feeling of his TARDIS in his arms. He hadn't held anyone like this for a long time. Rose was an old woman by now, and River, at least in his timeline, was still a young girl. Oh, there had been others in between, but no one he cared for. Only willing partners also in need of temporary release. One night stands, he thought humans called it in the 21st century.

Finally the TARDIS sighed softly, "My Thief."

He couldn't begin to say how much he loved being called that. More than any other name he'd ever had, but only by her. Only by Sexy. He looked down at her expectant face looking up at him. 

The Doctor, her thief, kissed her full and firm, parting her lips with his tongue, beginning softly, gently. She returned his kisses adding small nibbles to his lower lip. "Kissing and biting at the same time is even better," she murmured against his mouth. 

"We're both winners."

Their kissing increased urgency. The Doctor fumbled with the fastenings on Sexy's dress. The clumsiness was taking over. Of all the things he hated about this regeneration, the awkwardness was the worst. "I'm going to need your help." And before he knew it, they were both standing before each other in their underclothes.

He was pleasantly surprised to find she was wearing 21st century garments under her dress. There was a fine dance to be played with 18th century Victorian garments - the unlacing of the corset and the opening or untying of the bloomers - he occasionally found enjoyable, but he much preferred the simplicity and indecency of more modern garments. "Oh, Sexy, you are a dirty, dirty girl." he chided in a low and husky voice full of lust.

The Doctor's hand trailed down her body, stopping to pinch each nipple firmly through the lace of her black bra. The TARDIS imitated his movements. She rolled one of the Doctor’s nipples between her fingers. “Such delicate, interesting little things. Completely useless on a man.” The Doctor moaned out his pleasure at the pressure. “But oh so oddly responsive.” Sexy concluded. Her TARDIS blue tipped nails raked down his stomach and slipped across his sides causing the Time Lord to gasp in delight. As one hand held the small of his back, the other eased into the waistband of his boxers.

“Mmm...black silk boxers. Predictable, but pretty.” She murmured.

He couldn’t recall donning a pair of silk boxers, nor could he recall any of his past regenerations doing so either. Looking down to check, lest Sexy had mixed up her words again, he mused, “It seems I wear black silk boxers now.”

“Are they cool, my Thief?” she teased a finger through his pubic hair.

He wriggled a bit in them, feeling the lightness against his thighs and the smoothness on his backside. “Yes....ahhhhh....” the Doctor groaned when she brushed her hand down his length. “Yes, I think they are.”

Sexy’s eyes were locked with his, her mouth inches away from his own, and her thumb was drawing small circles across the tip of his erection. On each swipe, the thumb gathered and produced more and more precum. The Doctor had to release his grip on her side to reach over her head and steady himself with one of the bedposts. He swallowed hard, thinking he should break the moment before it all ended too soon. Somewhere, though, in the one rational portion of his brain still working, he knew none of this would end too soon.

Before he truly realized it had happened, the Doctor’s TARDIS was on her knees in front of his now naked body. One hand cupped his balls. He could feel the tips of her nails applying the right amount of pressure to his most sensitive of skin. The other hand was wrapped around his erection. Her tongue snaked out to taste the tip. The Doctor’s hips bucked involuntarily and he thought about angry mothers of his companions slapping his face in fury to prevent himself from emptying against her lips on that first touch.

When the Doctor found Sexy's mouth fully around his erection, he also found himself wishing he could drive it all the way down her throat. Their position wasn't right, though, and few humans were able to achieve such a thing with the head cocked forward as Sexy's was now. Jack had managed it on the night everyone lived, but Jack had been extraordinary in the bedroom. Nevertheless, with one hand gripping her hair and the other holding himself steady on the bedpost, he felt his erection slide past her palate and straight down her throat. She looked up at him with her smoky eyes and grinned around his length.

He groaned. No matter how he tried to stave off the impending release, he knew with Sexy swallowing him at every thrust, the moment would come soon. The Doctor knew he should pull out of her warm mouth but something told him this would not be the end of the evening if he didn’t. Instead he firmed his grip on his TARDIS’ hair and allowed her to suck him down. The noises she made in the back of her throat that vibrated through his length only drove his want until he found himself thrusting in one final time, holding Sexy in place while his body rocked through his orgasm. Sexy held him firm, fingernails digging into his arse.

The two travelers lay back on the bed with its rich coverings together. The Doctor kissed down Sexy’s body, her two perfect breasts, the flat of her stomach, the soft damp cleft of her legs. He was too overwhelmed to speak. She arched her back under his touch, seeking more contact. “Please, Thief.”

And then he was between her legs, pushing in, knowing he shouldn’t be ready again so soon, but somehow was hard and full. Sexy’s warm slick entrance opened to him, pulling him in until they were pressed together stomach against stomach, chest against chest, lips against lips. Her legs wrapped around his hips, holding him to her.

They moved together slowly like this, stretching out time. Sexy’s body enveloped his erection, small spasms and clenches causing him to gasp or thrust suddenly. The Doctor found he enjoyed the mewling sounds she made underneath him. He raised enough to move his lips down her neck, across her chest, and over a nipple, hard and tight from desire. She thrust up at the sensation of his teeth baring down on the sensitive skin.

Fingernails scratched at his back leaving marks and he moved his mouth to the line between his TARDIS’ shoulder and neck. Shuddering at the deep bite, she moaned “Help me, please.” The Doctor adjusted, leaning up on one arm. The other moved between them until he found her hard, eager nub. She arched again and pulled him closer with her legs, digging heels into his butt and fingernails into skin around his shoulders. “Oh yes, Doctor, my Thief.” It didn’t take long for them both to find their release, clinging to each other as their bodies rocked through their eruptions. The Doctor brushed damp hair from Sexy’s brow before resting his head next to hers.

The victrola continued playing soft music in the corner. The Doctor and his TARDIS lay curled together on the large bed. “How long do you have?” The Doctor asked, knowing she would leave, but surprisingly not sad at all.

“I’ll be here until you wake.” She whispered.

“You mean until I go to sleep.” He was certain she’d mixed up her words.

“No, I shouldn’t think so.”

“When can you come again?” he asked.

“When you dream.” she responded. 

He trusted her and slept soundly in her arms. 

The next morning the Doctor woke on the settee in the lounge. The Gallifreyan translation of Edgar Allan Poe poems he had been reading the night before slipped to the floor. He was dressed in his tweed jacket and wool pants, but had loosened his bow tie. The TARDIS’ engines hummed softly as he made his way through the corridors to his bedroom. When he flipped on the lights, the room was decorated precisely as it had been when he danced with Sexy, the bed neatly made. “Ahhhhh....” he murmured, “You redecorated. I like it.” His TARDIS hummed quietly in response.


End file.
